


Bell (e) the Cat

by Laikin394



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Cats, F/M, Fluff, Out of Character, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 21:44:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1164877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laikin394/pseuds/Laikin394
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina thought it’d be funny to turn the Dark One’s caretaker into a cat. Rumpelstiltskin finds the cure, of course, but it leaves Belle with a pair of ears, a tail and well… have you heard of cats in heat?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bell (e) the Cat

Rumpelstiltskin sent a particular nasty hex after Regina that would make her itch for days in places she could not reach and get only worse if she tried to scratch. He scowled at the animal in front of him. It looked like an ordinary cat – black fur, four paws and a spectacular set of long whiskers – there were probably dozens of those creatures down in the village. The only remarkable feature of the feline were its – _hers_ , to be exact as his former caretaker and now a pet was definitely feminine – eyes. Large even for a cat and sky-blue, they stared back at him. Those were smart eyes, a little pensive but clear.

“Belle?” he asked, uncertain of how much conscious of the girl remained in that form.

Just when he began to think that maybe it wasn’t all lost - Rumpelstiltskin had never seen a black cat with blue eyes before, so maybe there was Belle’s mind inside this form – the cat blinked, breaking their staring contest and began meticulously cleaning her paws, putting out her claws and licking between them thoroughly as if there had never been a more important task in the world. Right. That’s _exactly_ what Belle would do.

Rumpelstiltskin sighed. He needed to think how to break this spell, so he headed to the spindle; the soft creak of the wooden wheel always helped him to concentrate. The cat followed him, jumping onto the folds of his cloak and chasing the train as it slid across the floor. Very mature. Rumpelstiltskin rolled his eyes and sat on the bench at the wheel. He must have spent a couple of hours there, his train of thoughts broken by a rude, loud meow.

“Shoo,” he said to the cat but he should have known better. Instead of running away to hunt or whatever else cats were supposed to do, she jumped onto his lap and repeated her angry cry. She was a persistent and stubborn creature, which did not change whether she had four legs or remained on two. The man pushed the cat onto the floor unceremoniously, but she wasn’t discouraged by that a bit. Instead, Belle stood on her hind legs, her front paws kneading and clawing at the leather of his pants.

“What now?” he plucked her from the floor by the scruff of her neck to stop the assault on his breeches. The cat wriggled and thrashed around wildly, trying to reach the hand holding her or slither out of his grasp, but he held her firmly, raising the creature up to his eye-level. “You are a little fury troublemaker, are you not?” Rumpelstiltskin chided, jabbing a finger at her. His digit was immediately grabbed by her paws and she sank her sharp little teeth into it. Hissing with pain, he pulled his hand away quickly. As if sensing she went too far, Belle was suddenly limp in his clasp, looking up at him serenely, tail between her legs.

“Oh no, don’t you make big guilty eyes at me, girl,” Rumpelstiltskin stood up and walked out of the room, keeping the cat in his outstretched arm. “That trick works only in your human form.”

He tried to keep his arm steady not to swing the cat around too much. That probably wasn’t the way to transport those animals, but he did not want to risk being bitten again. He was sure that holding her by the loose skin at the back of her neck would not harm her and keep his digits intact.

“I’m taking you to the kitchens, dearie,” he explained to her unspoken question, or at least he liked to imagine there was one.

“I guess you need to eat, my fingers are a poor substitute for a proper meal.”

Belle meowed in agreement as he carefully placed her onto the stone floor in the kitchen and turned to the little room where the food supplies were kept.

What were cats supposed to eat? He didn’t have anything suitable in store; he could hardly offer her tea and her favourite cinnamon buns. He turned around to Belle, spotting her on the table, sitting right in the middle of the wood polished surface and following his movements around the room with large eyes.

“Manners, dearie,” he complained. She honoured the remark with a short meowing noise, blue eyes squinting slightly and still fixed on him.

Stray cats hunted mice and rats, so maybe she’d go for those too? He snapped his fingers, making a squeaking little mouse appear in his hand. He held it by its tail and swayed it in front of the cat’s face. Belle gave him what he interpreted to be the scornful look and turned away.

“Fine,” he sighed, magically getting rid of the mouse. Apparently, she was spoiled and found mice to be an unworthy meal. Maybe the next attempt would be more successful.

“There you go, fresh catch,” he said proudly, placing a plate with a glistening orange slice of salmon in front of the cat. Belle sniffed at it, but looked back at him expectantly. “You’re too picky,” Rumpelstiltskin complained, banishing the fish.

“How come you’d rather bite my fingers than eat salmon?” He replaced it with pieces of chicken breast. This time she gave the treat several licks. Obviously, the chicken did not taste bad, for she gave a quiet growl and began chewing on the smooth chunks, tilting her head to one side to crush them with her molars.

“You’re welcome,” Rumpelstiltskin smiled, sitting down on the chair and propping his legs on top of the table. He watched her eat, sipping on his cup of tea. He should feel crazy talking to an animal, but she was Belle and he got used to talking with her so much he felt uncomfortable in silence.

“You know, dearie,” he went on slowly, “we probably make a spectacular match. The Dark One and the black cat. Or are only witches supposed to have black cats?” he wasn’t sure, but again, he could have a pink flamingo as a pet and no one would dare to laugh at it. Not that anyone would find out, of course, he seldom had any visitors at the castle.

“You’d ruin my reputation completely – the mighty Spinster serving meals to please his lady puss.”

Belle offered no reply. She finished eating, her pink tongue darting out to clean her upper lip while she watched him closely.

“Don’t you know that a cat can look at the king, but it’s impolite to stare at sorcerers? Oh wait, don’t answer that, it was rhetorical.” He sniggered at his own quip. “Well, I suppose it’s time for bed. Stay here, near the fire, we don’t want you to get lost and freeze in some distant corner of the castle, do we?” He got up and petted her on the head, running his fingers through the silky fur and smirking when the cat pushed her head up into his palm, clearly enjoying the touch. Rumpelstiltskin scratched behind her ears and she closed her eyes with pleasure.

“Good night dearie,” he bid her, amused. “Tomorrow we’re going to restore you back to your human shape.”

***

Rumpelstiltskin woke up with his nose buried in something soft and his hair being pulled on. The intruder was the cat Belle, rolled in a ball on the pillow next to his face, purring and licking away on strands of his hair. He reached up, pushing her muzzle away. Great, now he had cat saliva on his head. Her rough tongue licked his fingers instead and the purring became louder as he scratched under her jaw. She stretched shamelessly to give the man better access as his fingers stroked the soft fur of her chest and neck.

“You’d be so embarrassed by that, dearie, if you could remember it,” Rumpelstiltskin giggled as he kept petting her, the cat watching him through half-closed eyes. He’d never had an animal, but now he could see why people liked having them around. The feel of her fine fur under his fingers was soothing and surprisingly pleasant. He couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like to touch her once she was a girl. Would she crave more of his touch? Would her skin be as warm and smooth? Would she press against him shamelessly, ask for more, beg him not to stop?

He sighed, wondering where those thoughts even came from and got out of bed and dressed himself with a whisper of magic. Enjoyable as it was, Belle was not an animal and there was no need to keep her trapped in that state longer than necessary. He scooped her up, nesting her in the crook of his arm and headed to the tower.

Forty minutes later, with a touch of catnip, the potion was ready. He reached for the glass dropper, pushing on the rubber tip to fill it with the bright-green potion. He placed the cat in his lap, laying her on her back and hooking his fingers at the sides of her mouth. He pried her jaws open, slipping the tip of the dropper in between to squeeze a few beads of the concoction onto her tongue. Belle jumped onto the floor as soon as his hand released her muzzle and her cat body began to change immediately, growing, limbs stretching and the black fur disappearing until her figure was restored to normal shape.

Well, almost normal, Rumpelstiltskin mused as he plucked his leather coat off the chair to drape it over her naked body, helping her to stand up. He was confident he brewed the potion correctly – otherwise it would not work – but the girl still had those two perky ears on her head, standing upright proudly among her brown curls and, even worse, he caught a glimpse of her tail, dark, flexible and long, contrasting against the creamy white of her skin before it was concealed by his cloak.

“Can you speak?” his voice was laced with worry and the man hoped an extra pair of ears and the tail were the _only_ unfortunate side-effects. “Do you remember what happened?”

Belle’s ears turned at the sound of his voice.

“Yes,” she gave him a reassuring smile. “There was that woman, Regina, and she did not like the way I spoke to her and…” The girl gave a surprised yelp and jumped, as her tail swept across her calf.

“What was that?” she sounded panicked, but Rumpelstiltskin could not help sniggering.

“I believe that was your tail, dearie. I must say it goes rather nicely with your new set of ears.”

“My _what_?” she lifted her arms, feeling up the soft triangles of cat ears on her head, looking utterly horrified. He noticed that her fangs were longer and protruding, not excessively as to look unnatural, but larger than before.

“…and your whiskers,” Rumpelstiltskin teased. Belle covered her face with her palms in horror, but her fingers met nothing but smooth skin. She smacked his upper arm, relieved there was nothing wrong with her face but not amused by his taunt. Her ears were flat against her head and she looked miserable.

“I apologize, dearie,” he spoke softly, suddenly serious. He wrapped his arms around the girl, running the palm of his hand soothingly down her back. Belle hid her face against his neck, sighing contently and nuzzling his neck. She must have been a little uncomfortable, shifting weight from one foot to the other on the cold floor but didn’t say a word about it.

“I guess Regina added… a personal touch to the standard spell. I’ll fix it in a few days, I promise. Now, go back to your room to change and we can have dinner, alright?”

She nodded and tightened the coat around her shoulders; when she left the tower, her ears were back upright.

***

When the girl joined him in the living room after dinner, Rumpelstiltskin thought that her half-transformed state did have certain advantages, after all. The tail prevented her from wearing a dress; apparently it had a mind of its own and didn’t like to be restrained. It swayed as she walked but, luckily, she didn’t trip over the thing. Belle chose a pair of soft wool pants that hugged her buttocks rather nicely and allowed the tail to swish behind her freely.

Belle chose to sit on a soft pillow next to the fireplace with a book in her hand, as her long tail curled around her on the floor, the tip of it jerking from side to side. Rumpelstiltskin sank into an arm chair to the left of the mantle, watching her read and thinking about ways to alter the potion in order for her to shed the remains of her cat anatomy.

“Rumple?” she called softly, putting the book aside.

“Mmhm,” he hummed, indicating he was listening.

“Could you… um… never mind,” Belle said quickly, blushing and turning away.

“What is it, dearie?” Now, that was curious. “You don’t have to be ashamed with me.” _Not after licking my hair in bed this very morning_ , he might have added, but he restrained himself. “Ask away.”

“I was just thinking,” she said hesitantly, moving closer to him until she was sitting on the floor inches away from the arm-chair, “if you would maybe… scratch behind my ears? I really like how that felt,” she confessed.

Rumpelstiltskin chuckled. It was a peculiar request indeed, but he stretched his arm out, letting his fingers slide through her thick hair before moving up to caress the short fur of her cat ears. Belle sighed and leaned closer, resting her head on his knees, a noise strangely close to a purr escaping her lips. She rubbed her face affectionately against his thigh, gradually moving higher and to his shame, he could feel himself getting hard.

There was something intoxicating and erotic, with her sitting at his feet, her face so close to his growing bulge as his fingers half buried in her hair. He stifled a moan, when her face pressed directly into his groin. Rumpelstiltskin would believe it was an accident, but she repeated the movement, this time her hand creeping up his leg to close around his hardness through the constraint of his clothing. Gods, even several simple squeezes like that would probably undo him in a matter of minutes. The temptation to give in was strong, but he knew he should not do it; it was wrong and unfair to Belle.

“No, stop, stop it!” he pried her hand off him, and stood up abruptly. “We cannot do this,” he added firmly, striding away from the room and leaving the girl on the floor with a confused and slightly hurt look on her face.

***

He tried to sleep, but the desired rest avoided him. When Rumpelstiltskin closed his eyes, he saw Belle, on her knees, touching him and that spurred more images, neither of them remotely chaste. He should stop thinking about the girl that way, it was low and filthy and gods, how he just wanted to enact those lewd fantasies. He must have dozed off eventually, for when he opened his eyes, he discovered he was no longer alone in the room.

“Belle? Is something wrong? Why are you here?”

There was something strange with her. She was barefoot and dressed in a light cotton nightgown, which ended above her knees. She was flushed and her eyes were dark, pupils dilated to the point where only a thin circle of her blue irises were showing.

“I… I feel funny,” Belle said, licking her lips nervously and pressing her palm against her middle. “My stomach feels strange and I couldn’t sleep.”

“Funny?” he repeated, puzzled. “In what way?”

“It’s…” Belle bit her lip, searching for the right words. “It’s like some kind of warmth tugging and vibrating through me. Not painful but very distracting.”

He frowned, thinking if that was another animal thing his potion failed to fix.

“…but it makes it better when I touch you. So I thought if I lay next to you, it would go away.” She glanced at him meekly and he couldn’t bring himself to say no.

Rumpelstiltskin threw the covers aside, inviting her in wordlessly. He was fully dressed underneath the sheets, more of a habit to be ready at any hour should any urgency suddenly arise. The bed sank under her weight a bit, as she crawled to his side, draping her leg over his hip boldly. Her breathing became more even and he decided she fell asleep, when Belle wiggled her hips as if trying to settle down more comfortably. But then she did it again, thrusting her mound against his hip repeatedly. Oh gods, was she rubbing off on him? The movements fell into a steady rhythm and Rumpelstiltskin was lost. Not that he minded, but he wasn’t certain how to react. Push her away? Pretend he did not notice? Help her to achieve a climax, hoping that once she was sated, she’d sleep?

He flexed the muscles of his leg, moving in against her and reaching down to her buttocks, squeezing them and pressing her closer, urging her to ride his hip. Belle whimpered at his touch, her breathing becoming more laboured as her movements got faster, the friction eased by the wetness from her arousal. Her tail was flexing under the sheets wildly. Rumpelstiltskin tried to steady it and she gave a long keen sound as his fingers brushed her there. Grinning darkly, he pressed his thumb to the base of her tail, stroking the spot where her cat fur met her smooth skin and Belle screamed, shaking as her pleasure washed down on her.

“Do that again,” she breathed after a few moments, her hips resuming the thrusts.

“Wait, I have another idea,” Rumpelstiltskin whispered back. He was afraid she’d chafe herself raw on his rough leather pants. He pulled her on top of him, sitting her on his middle. She was so wet, he could feel some of her juices soak into the fabric of his shirt; that would probably leave a mark in the silk, but he didn’t care. Rumpelstiltskin hooked her nighty over her hips, exposing the dark triangle of hair between her legs. He scooped some of her thick fluids from between her plump pussy lips, coating his fingers before pressing them to her clit, rubbing the little bud in circles, drawing a sharp intake of breath in her. His other hand reached behind to caress the base of her tail, which seemed to drive her crazy.

She couldn’t stop moaning as his fingers flicked, stroked and gently pulled on her clit. It took her longer then the first time; there was a sheen film of perspiration on her skin as she bucked her hips, unable to sit without movement. Rumpelstiltskin watched her closely, she looked so beautiful in her desire, oblivious to anything else - eyes squeezed shut and lips parted as her hips rocked against his hand. His movements were a bit jerky; her sex slippery with natural lubrication, but her mouth formed a perfect o-shape when she reached her climax, crying out his name as her body spasmed for the second time, sending white-hot sparks from her lower belly to her toes and fingertips.

Belle put her arms forward, leaning on his chest not to collapse on top of him. The damp nightgown was clinging to her skin unpleasantly and she made a face before pulling it over her head and tossing it on the floor. She looked down at him surprised, as he sucked a breath in, but her expression turned playful when the girl realized what startled him. Belle slowly cupped her breasts, lifting them up and squeezing them, smiling when Rumpelstiltskin gulped noisily. She looked him directly in the eyes, as her fingers plucked on her nipples, rolling and pulling them till they turned into hard points.

She reached for his hands, placing them onto her chest and sighing contently as he rubbed the flat of his palms on her tits. They fit into his hands perfectly and he loved how soft and smooth the flesh felt against the slightly-calloused skin of his hands. He scratched her lightly with his darkened nails, making her skin break into goose bumps.

Belle sighed happily and busied herself at undoing the laces of his shirt. She bent down to lick the exposed skin, her hair brushing his chest before he could stop her. Her hands slipped into the opening of the shirt, fingernails raking over the skin and Rumpelstiltskin moaned. He tensed though, his hands moving to her sides to nudge her off him. He had to stop it before things went too far.

“Shh,” she said, leaning close to his face, the curtain of her wavy hair shutting them off from the rest of the world. “Just let me, Rumple. I want to. I’ve always wanted to.”

And then Belle’s lips were over his, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, her sharp teeth nibbling on it lightly. The tip of her tongue travelled along the uneven edge of his teeth, exploring patiently, unhurriedly. There was only so much he could fight and resisting the beautiful woman who unexplainably wanted him, _him_ out of all people, would be an utter folly. Rumpelstiltskin groaned into her mouth, cupping the back of her head to urge her closer, deepening the kiss, his tongue dancing along hers as he drank her moans. After what felt like an eternity, Belle pulled away for a breath, glancing down at him and looking thoroughly debauched. She was flushed, her lips moist and swollen from the kissing and her tail hitting the sides of the bed with a muffled thud.

She grinned as she slid down his legs, kneeling between them and pulling his shirt up. She placed open-mouth kisses around his navel, licking and biting the exposed skin, her fingers simultaneously working on undoing the fastenings of his trousers. She was surprisingly good at multitasking; perhaps she did possess some magic of her own because she managed to untie the laces even without looking.

Belle did sit up though, moving to the side and pulling the leather pants off him carefully. She paused to look at his cock, long, fully hard and heavy against his stomach. As she gazed at him and suddenly he felt uncomfortable, too vulnerable and bare, but she snatched his wrist when he moved to cover himself and placed his hand back onto the mattress. Belle’s fingers curled around the shaft, her fist moving upwards, exposing the glistening head with a clear bead of precum on the tip.

She pumped her hand up and down, marvelling at the feel of soft skin moving over the hard core. When her hand made a little twist at the head, Rumpelstiltskin groaned, closing his eyes and she repeated the motion, her thumb pressing against the slit and spreading the moisture around the head. His eyes snapped open as something else touched the tip of his cock, something softer and hotter than her fingers. He looked down to see her pink tongue circling the soft head of his member, her eyes set on him.

“Fuck, Belle,” he rasped but he forgot what he was going to say in the first place.

Her tongue was everywhere, licking under the glans, flicking against the sensitive spot where the head met the shaft. Her hand was holding his cock upright, not moving, but the mere pressure of the grasp and the heat of her palm, the knowledge that it was her touching him, licking him, made him throb in response. She may have been inexperienced, but her enthusiasm made up for it. She lapped at the head, going from short quick strokes to long swipes across it, dipping the tip of her tongue into the slit to seek out more of his taste.

Belle sucked the tip of his cock in her mouth, her lips sealed just around the ridge as her tongue concentrated on the underside of the shaft. Her hand was between her legs, rubbing franticly and she hummed around his length as she came again, the sound vibrating down his prick and making his balls tighten against his body.

The heat and the wetness of her mouth were too perfect and he knew he couldn’t possibly last. Belle hollowed her cheeks, increasing the pressure on the head, her tongue swirling on the frenulum, gods he was impossibly hard and _fuck,_ yes, there, _right there_ , that was it. He yanked on her hair, making her gasp in surprise as she lifted her head off him.

Rumpelstiltskin’s hand covered hers on the shaft and he grunted as he came in short powerful bursts, the hot milky fluid landing on his lower abdomen as his fingers squeezed the last drops from his cock. He let out a shaky sigh, his body boneless against the sheets and he tried to remember if he had ever experienced such intense pleasure.

Belle gave him a disapproving look.

“You cheated me she pouted,” and before he had the chance to figure out what she meant, her mouth was back on his softening cock, cleaning the head and moving down to bathe the shaft and his sack with her tongue. If he hadn’t come so hard, he’d probably be up and stiff again in no time, but it seemed that exciting him again was not her intention. She cleaned his cock meticulously and moved to lick the traces of cum from his stomach, her nipples brushing against his hip in the most delightful way.

When she was satisfied with the results, she slid onto her side next to him, wrapping her arm and leg around him and sighing as Rumpelstiltskin pulled her tight to his body, resting his cheek on top of her head.

“I feel better now,” she announced, nuzzling a spot just under his ear, “but I think we may need to do it several times to make sure I’m completely alright.”

He laughed at that, flicking his fingers on her nose.

“I’m afraid you wore me out, dearie. I’m an old man, after all.”

“You’re not old,” Belle said seriously, looking up and him and tilting her head for a kiss. “Besides, if I wore you out, it means you must stay in bed.”

“And what would I do in bed? Rest?”

Belle wrinkled her nose, her right cat ear twitching in irritation as the man’s breath tickled it. Rumpelstiltskin blew warm air against the pointed tip on purpose, amused by how her ears moved to avoid the distraction.

“No, I don’t think you’d rest in bed,” she admitted finally.

“Seems that I’ve created a greedy monster, dearie, although everyone believes _me_ to be one.”

Belle stuck her tongue out at him and he chuckled.

“Sleep, little monster,” Rumpelstiltskin whispered into her hair, his own eyelids heavy. He drifted off to sleep, still clutching her close to his chest, reluctant to let go off her even for a second.

**Author's Note:**

> Moment of shameless promotion. I'm now a co-admin of a Rumbelle group on [Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/RumbelleFairytale?fref=nf)  
> How are we different from a gazillion of other groups? We have daily #NighTales - short stories with accompanying arts to spark your imagination before sleep ;)


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